


and so we shall heal.

by exactlyright



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Inquisitor, F/M, Happy Ending, Healing Inquisitor, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Post-Break Up, Recovery, Short Chapters, Some Fluff, previous relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactlyright/pseuds/exactlyright
Summary: Suli'h Lavellan breaks up with Solas. Cullen Rutherford gets dumped. Three months later, they've begun to work on themselves and in the process of doing so, meet the other.-Only a small mention of Solas/Lavellan & previous relationships.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Solas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	and so we shall heal.

**Author's Note:**

> I think we could all use some healing right now.

_Suledin_

The studio is empty, the early morning sun barely illuminating the various areas. The air is still, and if not for the blatant removal of so many of its inhabitants contents, one would think it was undisturbed as she entered. 

She finds herself pressing her palms into a table, knees bent under her, head pressed against the smooth surface. But there is no peace. The sun and the air will be silent and move as they will, but that does not mean peace. He is gone. Officially. The sobs that break through the silence are the only truth that can be found in the moment.

They had played this game before, a fight, something about the state of her people, something about how she made her work, something about what his paintings were, but there was resolution. Soft spoken apologies, a too sweet pastry pressed into her hands. There was no resolution this time. His secrets were too great, and his opinions were too linked to who she was, and more specifically, what she could never be. He could play coy and distract and paint her in the way her ancestors were. But he could not trust her. He could not believe in who she was, how she wanted to be seen, how she needed to be seen. He would not believe in her, would not believe in her people, how she conducted herself within the world and she could no longer hide from him. She was done. 

She took a deep breath. Her half of the studio, with clay and pieces wrapped in damp cloths was the same as it had ever been. Her wheel, with tools still spread across it, a bowl waiting to be filled with water, still called to her. So she answered the call. 

And she got to work. 

_Cullen ___

____

____

____

____

She was gone. Their apartment, never as neat as he was raised to be, was now sparkling cruelly back at him. There was a key and a note that he did not read on their coffee table. 

The couch was bare, her throw blankets that she was constantly wrapped in taken with her to… wherever she had gone. _You’re the coldest man I’ve ever met._ The bitterness of the memory bit at the back of his throat as a sob threatened to break through. He didn’t know what to do. Who to go to. He couldn’t go into the bedroom, couldn’t face that yet. The memories were already piling up here. 

The laughter at the start, the furniture they built together, the apartment they made for themselves, was all his to what, live in? How could he live here? How could he stay where she had left him, storming out after he just couldn’t meet whatever it was that she so desperately needed him to. _I cheated on you._

The knock on the door was soft at first, Alistair’s voice barely passing through the door. Cullen ignored it, leaning against a wall with his fists balled against his eyes. Then it just kept going, and kept going and kept going. 

“Thought you’d never open up! Was debating on which knock knock joke I’d need before -” Alistair saw his friend, the man who he considered- no, was, his brother, and couldn’t get out another word before he wrapped Cullen tightly in a hug. “I know. I know.” Cullen Rutherford, police detective turned lawyer, the strongest man Alistair knew, was broken.


End file.
